Army Brat
by Ashana
Summary: G1 Ironhide has always dreamed of having a family. But when a young femme comes to the ARK claiming to be his daughter, will he be able to raise her on his own?
1. Prologue

**Army Brat**

Prologue

_Autobot Base, Iacon, Cybertron_

"You don't have to go."

Ironhide sighed and powered up his optics, looking at the teal femme that was currently sprawled across his chest. Her chin was propped up on curled fists, and she was staring at him with intense blue optics.

"Chromia—"

"I could talk to Prowl. Tell him that we need a big, strong mech around the base. Elita isn't going to be able to take care of everything by herself…"

"Which is why you're staying behind with her," the red mech reached up and laid a finger over her lips, a small smile quirking the corners of his mouth. "We already talked about this, 'Mia. Prime _needs_ me."

She sat up, pulling her face away from his hand. "No he doesn't. I need you more than him!" She declared, drawing herself up so she could glare down at him. He sighed, grabbing her forearms to keep her from jumping up all together.

"I'm his _bodyguard_, Chromia. If Prime dies, then everything we've worked for will be for nothing."  
"But I'm your _bondmate!_"

Ironhide pulled the femme back down to his chest, wrapping his arms around her back to keep her from getting up. "I know you are, and I _love _you, but we both knew that joining the Autobots would mean doing things we would rather not do, and that sometimes it would mean time apart."

"You don't know how long the trip will take. What if you're gone for _vorns _before you find any energon?" She rested one audio against his chest, listening to his fuel pump beat steadily beneath his heavy armor.

He chuckled. "You know Prowl better than that. He's already found a planet that looks promising. It's in the Gamma Quadrant – an orn of travel at the most. We'll be back before you know it."

"Are you sure?" She frowned at him. "What if Prowl is wrong?"

"Then we'll come back here and think up a new plan. We _will _come back, Chromia."

She didn't look convinced. "Well…" He bent forward with silenced her with a soft kiss.

"_Relax_," he whispered, "and lets enjoy our last night together for the next orn or two. Okay?"

Chromia forced herself to smile. "You mechs think with your interfacing cables, you know that?"

"Yes, and you love it."

Laughing and setting her fears aside for the moment, she caught his lips with hers and took advantage of the distraction Ironhide was offering.

~*~

_Femme Base, Iacon, Cybertron_

"Elita, may I speak with you?" The voice – quiet, courteous and soft – nearly took the femme commander by surprise. Elita-One looked up at her teal and white second in command, optics creasing at the corners with worry. Chromia was not one to knock politely on her office door – she usually bounded in with her guns out, demanding action and punishment. The femme standing in the doorway didn't resemble the robust and courageous warrior she was used to seeing every day.

"Of course, Mia," Elita smiled, stacking her datapads neatly on one side of her desk. The other side was loaded down with holo-pictures, trinkets from friends, and a piece of Shockwaves armor mounted on a plaque. Chromia glanced at it as she sat down, a small smile gracing her faceplates. The femme commander returned the smile, folding her hands in front of her on the desk. "What do you want to talk about?"

The hesitant frown returned, and Chromia's bright blue optics dulled a bit. "It's about Ironhide," she answered softly, and Elita felt herself relax. She had seen the younger femmes' depressed mood emerging throughout the past few weeks. It happened every year, around this time – the anniversary of the ARK leaving Cybertron, the night after she and Ironhide had bonded. A little over four million years had passed since then, and all of the femmes in the base had nearly given up hope of ever seeing their loved ones again. Then four years ago, Shockwave had received the news that Megatron and his soldiers had awakened on a distant organic planet, and were continuing to fight the Autobots. While they had yet to make contact with the earthbound Autobots – it was too dangerous with Soundwave still functioning – every femme had regained some slim hope that their lovers were alive and still fighting the good fight. Everyone except Chromia.

The femme had nearly burst at the seams at first, all of her hope restored in three simple words: _They are alive. _But as time passed with no attempt of contact from Earth, her joy had begun to fade. Her bond with Ironhide – still new and fragile, unable to strengthen while he was in stasis lock – did not allow her to feel him like a mature bond did. Like Elita-One felt Optimus Prime, every moment of every day. It was the only thing that had given her hope during the long years of doubt and darkness, allowing her to lead her warriors to victory time after time.

Chromia was staring down at her hands, which were twisting together in her lap. Elita settled her chin on her hands and watched her carefully. "You're worried about him?"

She nodded, hands curling into fists. "Yes," she sighed, "of _course _I'm worried about him, Elita! It's been so _long _since I last heard his voice, since I saw his smile! What if he's forgotten about me?" The commander could see the panic rising in her optics.

"Mia," the pink femme smiled, "Bondmates _can't _forget about each other. It's physically impossible." She chuckled. "Trust me, he thinks about you every minute of every day, just like you do." She reached across the desk and caught her hands, gently untangling her fingers. "He misses you. Have faith – you'll see him one day."

The younger femme sighed through a small smile. "Thanks Elita, you always know what to say." She pulled her hands back and stood, stronger in her stance than before. She looked at the knick-knacks on the desk and was about to say more, but a frantic pounding on the commanders door interrupted her. Elita stood as the door was thrown open, optics flashing with worry.

A femme, younger than Chromia and Elita by four million and four years, leaned against the doorframe, puffing as she pulled air through her overworked vents. "Elita," she gasped, pushing herself farther into the room. The second command moved to pull the youngling into the circle of her arms, stroking the back of her simple domed head comfortingly. Both had identical color schemes – teal with white accents- and she seemed to disappear into Chromia hold.

"Calm down, Rivet. Take deep breaths," Chromia ordered, cradling the youngling head against her shoulder. Elita frowned and rounded her desk, reaching out to rest a hand on her shoulder.

"What is it, child?" She asked, "What's wrong?"

The femme looked up, her dark blue optics panicked. "Attack!" She blurted out. "Racer and the others are holding them back, but they know where we are! They're jamming our coms!"

Elitas' face hardened and she looked at Chromia with a rare, serious edge to her optics. "I will go join Moonracer. You escort Rivet to the docks, then report to me," she ordered, pulling her blaster from subspace and making sure it was fully charged.

The youngling turned and grabbed her arm. "No, Elita! I want to help, not run." She reached to pull out her own blaster, but was stopped by Chromia.

"No, Rivet," she whispered in a pained voice. "Come on. We've got to get you to the docks before they get past the sentinels."

"Mom –"

Chromias' optics hardened as she looked down at her daughter, shutting off the pain in her spark as she did so. "You have your orders, Rivet. You are to find Optimus Prime and give him my reports." Elita interrupted, moving towards the door. The second followed her, dragging Rivet along. The commander paused and turned to look at the two. Holstering her gun, she took the younglings face in her hands and kissed her forehead firmly. "Come back to us someday, Rivet. We will miss you." With that, she was out the door, heading for the sound of fighting down the hall.

Mother and daughter watched her retreat, twin looks of despair on their nearly identical faces.

~*~

_Command Center of the ARK, Oregon, Earth_

At first, the mechs had been excited to hear that they were being released from their boring, tedious desk jobs for the day. They had waited eagerly in the command center with baited breath – was the infamous Prowl giving them a day off? Was he giving them a day of leave, a day to screw around and play and relax? Races were arranged, movie dates made, and the beginning of a party planned in the few seconds between the words 'off-duty' and 'because.' Because. That dreaded b-word that broke their dreams like a dropped mirror.

"-because," Prowl had continued, his voice carrying easily over the whispers of the excited mechs, "There is a cargo shipment from Beta-9 coming in today, and it will take all of us to get the supplies unloaded before nightfall."

Faces fell and shoulders slumped – they were being taken from monitor duty and maintenance shifts to be pack mules for the day. Prowl, ignoring the looks being tossed his way by a few of the more volatile members of their group, began to hand out assignments and arrange the assembly line that would make sure the unloading went quickly and efficiently.

"Cheer up, bro," Sideswipe whispered, nudging the yellow mechs shoulder, "Maybe there'll be a femme or two on the ship!"

A few of the mechs around him chuckled, hopes rising marginally. A new ship meant fresh faces, unheard stories and possibly news from Cybertron. There was also the possibility of a Decepticon attack that, while not the most welcome of distractions, would certainly not be boring.

There was a self-important 'harrumph' from Sunstreakers elbow, and Huffer peered up at the twins with a look that could melt kryptonite. "Why bother trying to get our hopes up?" He demanded, "Everyone _knows_ the femmes are _dead_."

Several mechs around the room bristled at the statement, and Sunstreaker pushed the minibot away from him. "Shut up, shrimp." He snarled, hands balling into fists as he readied himself to smear Huffer across the room.

"Enough," Prowl ordered, voice never wavering despite the cool glint in his optic, "Report to your posts."

Muttering to themselves and casting the minibot more than one nasty look, the troops filed out of the command center. Prowl waited until Red Alert had dashed down the hall to retrieve his scanning equipment before turning to the red mech standing at the back of the room.

"Ironhide, are you alright?"

The red mech blinked away the distant look that had held his optics captive, looking at the second in command in confusion. "'Course I am, Prowl." He clapped the black and white on the shoulder, "C'mon, let's go check out the ship." He strode out of the room with his usual easy stride, leaving the concerned tactician in his wake.

~*~

_Deck of the Sun Surfer, Outside of the ARK, Oregon, Earth_

Prowl stood a ways away from his commander and the ship's captain, Trigger. He was reading over a report on the ships trip from Beta-9 to Earth, and doing his best not to nod off with boredom. The logs were uneventful – no Decepticon attacks or raids by competing traders, no major asteroid fields to maneuver through, and only one stowaway found…

The tactician paused, considering the short report with a careful optic. _One neutral stowaway discovered in the lower cargo bay. Apprehended and locked in room 6B. _Prowl tapped his fingers against the screen of the datapads screen, glancing up at Trigger with a frown. Surely the captain would have mentioned a mech stowing away on their ship, even if it was just in passing.

"Trigger," he approached the conversing commanders as they both chuckled over something or other. The two leaders were enjoying their time together, comparing the antics of their troops and crew. Prime smiled at his second in command, while Trigger looked less than pleased at being interrupted.

"Yes?" The blue and gold asked curtly, giving up on his current attempts to foster some of his more rambunctious crew members onto Prime and his troops.

"Can you please explain this stowaway matter in deeper detail?" Prowl held out the datapad, the two-line report highlighted.

"Stowaway?" Trigger took the datapad with a frown. "Oh yes, her," He turned to look up at Prime. "We found a neutral femme hiding in the main cargo bay a few days after we left port. She's currently being held in one of our empty supply rooms." The captain glanced at his first mate, who was working through some star charts with Cosmos. "Shortround," he snapped at the orange minibot, "Get over here."

Shortround rolled his optics but stood, joining the trio of taller mechs. "Yes sir?"

"What did that stowaway yell at you when you brought her energon?" The captain asked.

The minibot tapped his chin. "When I asked her for her name, she said she would only tell an Autobot." He shrugged, "And she said thanks for the drink."

Prowl rubbed his chin and glanced at Prime. ~Do you think she might be one of Elita-1s femmes?-~ He asked along their private comlink.

Optimus, who had been quietly thinking it over as they spoke, gave a small nod. ~Perhaps, ~ he muttered, not wanting to get his hopes up. He turned to the captain. "Trigger, may we speak with this femme?"

The mech nodded with a shrug. "Sure, why not? She's just gonna go to the brig on Beta-9 anyway." He dismissed Shortround with a flick of his wrist and led the Autobots down to the second deck.

~*~

_Room 6B, 2__nd__ Deck of the Sun Surfer, Oregon, Earth_

It had been two days since they brought her energon, and she was beginning to feel empty. Growling in annoyance to cover the sound of her rumbling tank, she nipped at the cuffs around her wrists with her sharp teeth. Over the past two weeks of travel, the heavy energon cuffs had rubbed her wrists raw. She had tried using a lock pick to disengage the locking mechanism, only to have it snap and get stuck. Now no amount of shaking or beating could knock the piece out, and her teeth couldn't grasp the sharp tip sticking out. With a groan she flopped onto her bed in the empty room.

"Hold on, let me find the key card."

The femme shot into a sitting position – that was the captains' voice! She growled low in her throat as other voices joined his, talking too quietly for her to hear through the thick metal. So that sneaky old mech _hadn't _been bluffing about selling her into slavery. Well, she wasn't going to go down without a fight!

As the door slid open, she charged at the figure standing there. The large red and blue figure was caught completely off guard and tumbled to the floor. The teal and white femme rolled off him, landing in an unsteady crouch, her balance hindered by the cuffs around her wrists. A black and white mech, doorwings flung wide in surprise, reached out to grab her arms. She slid to the side, his fingers glancing off her shoulder, and took off down the hall.

She knew the ship had landed – there was no steady rocking beneath her feet, no deep thrum of the engines behind the walls. If she could reach one of the cargo bays, she could escape to the planet's surface and find another way to reach Earth. Escape plan firmly in mind, she skidded around a corner and right into a large, solid red wall.

Large, heavy hands clapped down on her shoulders, steadying her as she reeled backwards. She was pushed away from the large mech, head still reeling from the sudden crash. There was a sharp gasp, and one of the hands carefully tilted her chin up.

"Chromia?"

* * *

**Authors Notes: **Thank you very much for reading! This is a rewrite of my original idea – I made Rivet older and more war-savvy than before, and worked on developing her character more thoroughly. Please remember that I'm in college and busy with homework, so chapters might come few and far between until summer arrives! And please remember to review so I can know whether anybody is reading and liking this story! If not, well, then there's no reason for me to continue writing it, is there?


	2. Chapter 1

**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! Here's the next chapter!**

**Army Brat**

Chapter 1

_Main Cargo Bay of the Sun Surfer, Outside of the ARK, Oregon, Earth_

No, not Chromia; Ironhide did his best not to sigh in disappointment. The femme in his arms was much too young and small to be his bondmate. Her helm was plain and rounded, lacking the intricate and tall designs the Iacon femmes sported. It only had a simple crest on the top (not unlike his own) and plain, round audios. In fact, most of her armor seemed plain, as though it had been built with only the barest of materials. He drew his gaze to her optics, and felt his spark skip a beat. Large, baby-blue glass set in a pale white face – just like Chromia.

"Who _are _you?" He asked, voice coming out in a surprisingly low growl.

The femme didn't answer. Her optics dropped and she looked over his frame, at last catching sight of the large red emblem on his grille. She brought up her cuffed hands and pointed at it. "You're an Autobot!"

He loosened his grip on her shoulder. "Yes, I am," he confirmed, giving her an amused look.

"Do you know where Optimus Prime is?" She asked, looking up at him with her large, hopeful optics. "Please, I _must _find him!"

Ironhide frowned. "Calm down, kid. I know where Prime is. Question is, why are ya looking for him?"

"I have information that's vital to the Autobot cause!" She clasped her hands in front of her face. "I have to see him before—"

There was a screech of steel plating tearing against metal skin as Trigger scrambled around the corner, closely followed by Prowl and Optimus Prime. The femme uttered a startled cry and ducked under Ironhides arms, putting his large bulk between her and the approaching mechs. The mech twisted his head to look at her, confusion flashing in his optics.

"Ironhide," Prime greeted, grinning broadly beneath his face mask, "I see you've made a new friend." He set a hand on Trigger's shoulder, stopping the mech from trying to get around Ironhide and grab the femme.

"Err, yeah," the older mech looked behind him. The femme was glaring at the two Autobot commanders through the gap between his arm and torso. He reached back and grabbed her shoulder, stepping to the side and pushing her in front of him.

Primes smile softened beneath his mask. "Hello, youngling –"

"I'm not a youngling!" The femme interrupted, shrugging off Ironhide's hands. "Just who are you, anyway?" She glared up at the taller mech, challenging him to prove her wrong.

"I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots." He answered calmly.

The commander tried not to make his smile obvious as he watched the femmes face rapidly change colors, from the bright blue flush of energon to the pale gray that meant it had all rushed to her toes. The cuffs around her wrists clanked as she clapped her hands over her mouth, optics wide in horror. "Oh my Primus," she whispered through her fingers, "Mom is gonna kill me."

Prime chuckled, moving closer. "It is alright," he calmed her. "May I know your name?"

She dropped her hands in front of her, snapping her heels together and straightening up. "Private Rivet of the First Femme Battalion reporting, sir!"

"First Femme Battalion?" Prime straightened to his full height, rubbing his chin as he studied the soldier in front of him. "Tell me, who is the commander of your battalion?"

"Elita-one, sir," she answered promptly, and he was sure that everyone on the ship could hear his spark jump at the name. He had known through their bond that she was alive, but to hear it confirmed made her seem so much more real in his processor.

"You're an Autobot, then?" Prime gave her paintjob another look-over, searching for the familiar splash of bright red clashing with teal that he had known so well at the beginning of the war. "Where are your symbols?"

Rivet reached up to one of her shoulders and scraped at the paint with her finger, revealing a spot of red beneath the blue-green. "Hidden to avoid Decepticon detection, sir. It was Flamestrike's idea."

Prime and Prowl both nodded – Flamestrike was an inventor, and prone to clever thoughts. Something as simple as paint had to be one of her more brilliant ideas. "What are you doing separated from your regiment, Rivet?" The tactician asked.

The femme gave him an odd look, but answered none the less. "I was sent as a courier by Commander Elita-One and Commander Chromia. I have reports that must be delivered."

"Did ya say Chromia?" Ironhide spluttered from behind the femme. She turned and looked up at him.

"Yes sir," a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, "Do you know her?"

Had Jazz or the Twins been there, they would have found the situation hilarious. As it was, Prime quirked a grin and Prowl did his best not to snort. The Autobot commander reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Rivet," he caught her attention, "Let's get you to the base so you can give your reports and be on your way back to Cybertron." He suggested gently.

"I'm not going back to Cybertron," the femme answered, dismissing Ironhide for the moment.

Optimus looked surprised. "You're not?"

"No, sir. My orders were to deliver the reports and then seek out my father."

Prowl had a sinking feeling in the pit of his engine block. "Really? And who is your father, youngling?"

"He's an Autobot warrior," the femme answered. "His name is Ironhide."

_~*~_

_Outside of the ARK, Oregon, Earth_

The gold and garnet twins were bored. Hauling crates from the hover sleds to the storeroom was a dull task, and they found themselves slumping along at a sluggish pace, fighting vainly to keep themselves from starting a fight just to keep from going into recharge. Red Alert harrumphed and scowled at them, shooing them away from the doors of storage bay 4, where he was meticulously scanning every crate that came his way. With a sigh, they plodded towards the entrance like broken mules, readying themselves for another load of crates.

The large cave mouth, however, was crowded, and they found themselves pushing against the others to reach the front and see what had caught the attention of most of the ARKs crew. It was a sight to behold.

Prime was striding from the ship to the crowd, an unconscious Ironhide thrown over his shoulder. Prowl was walking behind him, doorwings held tight as he tried to keep a cap on his amused chuckles. Trailing after him was a teal and white femme, who was apologizing profusely.

"I'm so sorry! I don't know what I did! Maybe when I ran into him I hurt him some how?" She babbled to the black and white at a speed to rival Bluestreak. Prowl's doorwings twitched, and he coughed to hide a chuckle.

"Miss Rivet, I assure you, if a speeding Decepticon cannot take him down, you bumping into him would have had little effect." He tried to placate her.

She continued to run after him, now within hearing distance of most of the ARK. "Who is he, anyway?" The private asked, looking at the red figure thrown over Prime's shoulder.

"His name is Ironhide," anyone could hear the hidden smile in his voice, "Weapons specialist of the ARK."

There was a thump, and he turned to find the femme sitting on her knees, staring after Prime with optics wide enough to crack. "Oh my Primus I broke my father," She gasped, "Mom is going to kill me."

~*~

_Main Medbay, ARK, Oregon, Earth_

"Let me get this straight," Ratchet snapped, reaching up to rub at his aching chevron. "You," he pointed his wrench at the femme standing anxiously by the occupied berth, "Are the spawn of _him_," the wrench moved to motion at the unconscious Ironhide, who was stretched out on the table. "And when _he_ heardthis news, he _fainted_?"

Prime rubbed at his faceplate, trying to keep his laughter from escaping. It wouldn't do for the commander of the Autobot army to make fun of his friend while he was down. "Yes," he coughed, "that sums it up very nicely."

The medic glowered at the femme. "You're lucky you're new," he waggled the tool threateningly. "Now sit down before you faint. Your energon levels are low."

"Really, Chief Ratchet, I'm fin-"

"I said _sit_!"

"Yes sir!"

Prime watched as she sat on the edge of her father's berth. Cowed in one shout – he hated to admit it, but he was impressed. "Rivet," he moved to sit on the gurney across from her, "About those reports you wanted to deliver…"

She smiled at him, and suddenly it was his old friend Chromia looking at him from the berth. "Yes sir?" She prodded when he didn't continue.

He shook his head and regained his train of thought. "May I have them, please?"

"Oh," she looked surprised. "They aren't on datapads, sir." She reached up and tapped the side of her head, cuffs still rattling. After Ironhides untimely swoon, Prowl had sent the ship's captain Trigger to find the keys for her. "I have them all memorized. The only datapads I have are letters to some of your soldiers."

Optimus smiled. "I'll let you hand those out after you give your reports, then. It will be a good way for you to meet the others around the base. Now, about your reports." He stood, holding a hand out to help her down. "Let's move to my office."

"Hands off, Prime!" Ratchet snapped. "She's not going anywhere until she's back up to at least 80% efficiency." He shoved a cube of low grade into her hands. "Drink that, slowly."

"Yes sir," the femme muttered, examining the cube for a moment before taking a sip.

Optimus sighed, crossing his arms over his chest and watching as Ratchet moved around the Medbay. "When you're done, can you take Rivet to my office?" He asked. "I'd like to hold the meeting as soon as possible."

"Sure thing, Prime. You want me to bring Ironhide too, once he's up?"

"Yes, thank you." Optimus nodded. He smiled down at the femme. "I'll see you in a few cycles, Rivet." He waved to Ratchet and left, the heavy set of his shoulder relaxing some as he reentered the familiar flow of ARK at work.

Ratchet frowned at Prime's departure– he would need his back cogs realigned soon, from the way he was slumping. He finished straightening his tools and retrieved a second cube for his newest patient. Glancing at the berth, he paused. Rivet had stretched out on her side, the empty energon cube clutched in her hands, back against Ironhide's arm. Smirking, Ratchet retreated to his office, leaving father and daughter alone in their recharge.

~*~

_Optimus Primes Office, ARK, Oregon, Earth_

"You're _slaggin_' me!" Jazz howled, throwing up his arms and rocking back in his chair. "Ironhide is a father? _Our _Ironhide?" He demanded.

Across the desk, Prime chuckled. "Yes, he is." Shuffling the datapads he had been filling out to the side, he leaned back and crossed his arms with a heavy sigh. "I never thought I'd live to see the day one of our men would have a child."

Prowl, who was seated at the short end of the desk, pulled the reports in front of him and studied them carefully. "I'm certain you saw Optimus carrying Ironhide into the base from the ship?" He pointed out. "You were watching the monitors, weren't you?"

"A'course I was," Jazz waved him off, still grinning like a loon. "So where is his little bundle of joy?"

Optimus chuckled. "I'd strongly advise against calling her 'little' Jazz. She almost attacked me when I called her a youngling."

Jazz frowned. "Well, how old is she?"

Prowl slid a datapad across the table. "Ratchet ran some scans on her spark. She is four million and four years old." He reported, tapping one of the lines on the report.

"Four-million and f—yer kiddin' me!" Jazz grinned. "She'd have ta' been sparked right before the ARK left Cybertron!"

Optimus frowned at his third in command. "Exactly," he gave him a warning look, "and I don't want you to bother him about it."

"A'course not, Prime." Jazz's grin softened, "I'm happy for him. Where _is _he, anyway?"

"Right here," the weapon specialist groaned as he ambled into the small office. He snagged one of the chairs by the door and dragged it to the desk before plopping down with a heavy sigh.

Jazz clapped him on the shoulder, grinning widely. "Ratchet given ya trouble, man?" He asked, reading the red mechs expressions like an open datapad.

"What do _you _think?" He snapped, slouching down in his chair.

Optimus chuckled softly. "What did he do?"

Jazz was almost certain Ironhide was actually _pouting_. "He's got Rivet locked up in one of his torture chambers and won't let me see her."

"Torture chamber?" Prowl would have raised a brow, were he an organic.

The saboteur snickered. "His examination room," he clarified.

"Ah," Prime picked up the medics report and looked it over. "He says in his report that she needs undisturbed rest."

"I wasn't gonna disturb her," he argued. "I just wanted to see her."

Jazz laughed. "You'll get to see her soon. Ratchet just has to make sure she's not gonna keel over when she sees ya again."

~*~

_Examination Room 2, Medbay, ARK, Earth_

"How are you feeling?" Ratchet watched as his charge sat up, a hand on her head as she tried to keep the room from spinning. Trigger had been unable to find the key to the stasis cuffs, so the medic had cut them off while she recharge and thrown them away in disgust.

"Fine," the young femme grunted, swinging her legs over the side of the berth and leaning over her knees, "Just a little dizzy."

Ratchet snorted and stood up straight, crossing his arms. "You shouldn't have allowed your energy levels to drop so low." He reprimanded. "The transfusion I gave you will help, but you won't feel up to speed for at least another day or two."

"Mmm," she rested her helm in her hands, "Right. So can I see my dad now?"

"He's meeting with Prime right now." Ratchet grabbed her chin and forced her head up, examining her optics with a bright pen light. "You look fine," he muttered to himself, making a mental note to keep an optic out for mechs coming in with hand-shaped dents on their cheeks. She was a looker, alright, but what else did he expect from Ironhide and Chromia's daughter?

"So I can go find my dad?" Rivet slid off the edge of the berth and landed unsteadily on her feet. Ratchet automatically reached out to catch her arm, steadying her.

"As stubborn as your dad, aren't you?" He asked. "Alright, come on. Prime wanted to meet with you anyway." Keeping a firm hold on her elbow, he led her to the door.

He had only punched in four of the five digits for the code when a CPU-achingly familiar voice called out into the main bay. "Hey Ratchet, you in here?"

"Out!" The medic roared as soon as the door was open. "Get out, you pit spawns! I don't have ti—what in Primus name did you _do_?"

Sideswipe beamed and skipped into the Medbay, waving his brothers dismembered limb teasingly. "Good morning Ratchet!" He chirped happily. Sunstreaker staggered in behind him, a rag pressed against the leaking stump where his arm had been only minutes before. Without looking at the medic he stumbled to his regular berth and collapsed upon it in a huff. "Careful, doc, Sunny scratched his paint!" Sideswipe explained in a stage whisper, winking cheerfully.

"Sideswipe?"

"Yeah doc?"

"Shut up."

The garnet twin didn't wilt at the rebuke. "Whatever you say," he leaned against the berth his brother was lying on and found his optics wandering to the white and teal shoulder poking out from behind Ratchets bulky frame. "Er, doc? You're growing another arm."

Ratchet looked heavenward and stepped to the side, shoving her in front of him. "Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, this is Rivet. She—"

"Well helloooooo!" Sideswipe crossed the room in mere two bounds, vaulting over a gurney in the process. He seized her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it gently. "It's an honor to welcome such a beautiful warrior into our ranks." His lips began to trail up the pale white and teal armor on her arm.

Ratchet wrapped an arm around the young femmes shoulder and pulled her away from the overenthusiastic mech, scowl firmly in place. "As I was _saying_," he snarled, "This is Rivet, Ironhide's _daughter_."

Sideswipes gray face seemed to pale. "But…wait. Ironhide doesn't _have _any kids." His arms hung listlessly at his side as he stared at Ratchet as though he had grown another head.

"Have you ever _asked _if he ever had a child?"

"No, but….Primus," he grimaced. "Hide is gonna kill me."

Ratchet glanced at Sunstreaker, who wasn't looking very lucid at the moment, and sighed. "Give me that," he snatched up the arm Sideswipe had dropped on the nearest berth and stormed off towards the groaning yellow twin. "I have to start now if I want him out by tonight," he snarled to himself, straightening the mech and daubing at the energon spilling onto the floor. "Sideswipe, do you know where Primes office is?"

"Of course, I'm in there at _least _once a week. I tried to bring him a gift basket once, but Red Alert confiscated it. Said something about 'getting our leader drunk is an act of the Decepticons…"

"I don't need to know about your attempts at sabotaging the Autobot cause," Ratchet snapped. "Take Rivet to Primes office, and keep your hands off her!"

"I was just trying to be friendly," he protested, tilting his head to wink and grin at the femme. "C'mon, Rivet, let's get outta here!" He grabbed her hand and tugged her towards the doors to the hall.

A wrench narrowly missed his head. "Straight to Primes office, no tours!"

"Yes sir!" Sideswipe shoved the femme out the door and quickly closed it behind them. "Primus, what a grouch!" He looked at the short femme, running a hand over his helm. "So, you're really Ironhides kid?"

She nodded, "Yes sir."

"Whoa," Sideswipe held up his hands, "I am _not _a sir. Just call me Sideswipe." He grinned and threw a friendly arm around her shoulder. "C'mon, kid. Let's take the long way to Primes office."

~*~

_Recreation Room and Canteen, ARK, Oregon, Earth_

"Can you believe it? A femme, an actual _femme_, is here!" Bluestreak jabbered eagerly to the others gathered in the commons.

"I told you all the femmes would come," Huffer pointed out, puffing up his chest, "You just had to be patient!"

"Slag you Huffer, you little glitch!" Cliffjumper snarled, "You're the one who said—"

Sideswipes fist came down hard on the back of the minibots helm, and the resounding clang brought every ones attention to him. "No speaking like that with a lady present," he admonished, an arm still slung around the femmes shoulder. Rivet was looking at the gathered mechs nervously, and wished fervently that she hadn't allowed Sideswipe to take her the 'long' way to Prime's office. It had already been a half an hour and they were sure to get in trouble with Ratchet or Commander Prime soon if they didn't get there soon.

Several of the Autobots stood and crowded around, grinning and talking all at once. Some reached out and grabbed her hand, shaking it up and down enthusiastically. Others talked eagerly about themselves, sending names and ranks flying right over her head. Then suddenly one mech pushed his way through the crowd, his red face contoured into a noble, friendly smile. Shoving a gaggle of Minibots out of his way, he seized her hand and bowed down, bringing it carefully to his lips. "It's an honor to have you with us, Lady Rivet." Tracks greeted. "Welcome to Earth."

Rivets cheeks flushed bright blue, and she shuffled back against Sideswipes arm, only…Sideswipe wasn't there. She yanked her hand out of Tracks grasp and spun around to see that the red mech had moved halfway across the room and was chatting eagerly with a shorter green mech. The shy femme was alone, surrounded by strangers.

"Alright, that's enough! Break it up!" A musical voice, not harsh as it shouter but commanding, broke through the excited babble of voices. The voice belonged to a black and white mech, who pushed through his comrades with ease, as though he was dancing. "There ya are," he reached out to take her hand, visor gleaming at her. "C'mon, kid, Prime 'n' your dad are waiting." He pulled her through the crowd to the door and led her down the hall.

"Did he say 'dad?'" Mirage asked, glancing over the heads of the shorter mechs to stare at Sideswipe. The others quickly quieted and watched the red hellion, waiting for an answer.

Sideswipe rocked back and forth on his heels, grinning widely. "Oh, didn't I mention?" He asked. "She's Ironhides _daughter_."

~*~

_Optimus Primes Office, ARK, Oregon, Earth_

"Primus, kid, you sure know how to draw a crowd." Jazz laughed, keying open Prime's office door. "I wasn't sure I'd be able to save you from drowning." He stood to the side and ushered the hesitant femme inside. "C'mon, Prime doesn't bite."

"I do not," Prime agreed with a soft chuckle. "It is nice to see you again, Rivet. How are you feeling?"

"Commander Prime, sir!" The femme snapped to attention, throwing the Autobot leader a crisp salute.

Optimus smiled. "At ease, soldier." He motioned to the seat crowded between Ironhide and Jazz. "Have a seat." Rivet took a step forward, but paused when she saw the red mech sitting with his arms crossed, watching her.

"That's right; you two haven't been properly introduced!" Jazz threw his arm around her shoulder, steering her into the room and making sure the door locked behind him so no one could interrupt their meeting. "Rivet, this is Ironhide, the ARKs weapon specialist. Ironhide, this is Rivet, of the First Femme Battalion of Cybertron."

Ironhide stood, but didn't move forward. They stared at each other, identical blue-gray optics sizing each other up carefully. Prowl lowered his head and studied his datapad, not wanting to intrude upon the special moment. Optimus crossed his arms and settled back in his chair, watching his oldest friend with a soft smile in his optics. Jazz glanced at his patient leader and resisted the urge to groan. At this rate, the two wouldn't move until Unicron came!

"Whoops." He shoved Rivet hard, sending her stumbling forward. Ironhide lunged, wrapping his arms around her as she fell against his chest. He glared daggers at Jazz.

"Watch what you're doing!" He snarled before looking down at the femme. "Are you alright?"

Prime glanced at Prowl, who was smiling in amusement as he watched Ironhide help his daughter to her seat. They both remembered the early days of the war, when the soldiers of the Autobot resistance were young and bright-eyed, ready to take on the world. Not all of them had been ready for the true horrors of battle and not long after the fall of Iacon Chromia and Ironhide had begun to take the youngest of the soldiers under their wing. They trained them and taught them all they could, bringing out their hidden talents in the hopes that these younglings would be able to survive the war. When the battles grew tougher and slaughter became a frequent sign of a war well fought, the couple would crowd extra bunks into their room and allow the young mechs and femmes to recharge with them. However, war is war, and many of them were killed or transferred off base. The only ones still online after being raised by Ironhide and his bondmate were the Twins, Bumblebee and Bluestreak.

"Commander Prime?"

Optimus blinked and focused on the femme across the desk. She, Ironhide and Jazz were all giving him a strange look.

"Ya zone out, Optimus. You okay?" Jazz asked cheerfully, the faintest touch of concern in his voice.

He nodded. "Yes, I'm fine." Turning his attention to Rivet, he composed his smile and picked up a blank datapad. "Now Rivet, I believe you said you had some reports memorized to give me?"

She nodded and began to reel off information Elita-One had given her, careful to recite the numbers and locations clearly. Prowl and Prime both copied down the information as she spoke, glancing up from their datapads every once in a while to look at the firm grip father and daughter had on each other's hands.

* * *

**Authors Note: **Phew! Finally done with the second chapter! XD Took a lot longer than I thought. Ah well. So, third chapter is on its way! Rivet meets the rest of the team and gets an earth alt mode, while Ironhide learns that having a rather pretty daughter on a base full of mechs is not an easy task.

**IMPORTANT NOTICE FOR REVIEWERS!!!! PLEASE READ BEFORE REVIEWING!**

So I've been thinking a lot about Rivet and developing her character, and that has, of course, erupted in plenty of one shot ideas. So I'm thinking that once I have her place in the Autobot ranks better established, I'll start a series of one-shots. Now everybody has read those '28 one-shot' memes where they're given a one or two word theme, right? So if you have a word you want to apply to Rivet, put it in your review! I won't do anything smutty or graphic (eww!) but I will do my best to get to every ones ideas! And if there's a character you want to see her interact with, put his/their name(s) in parenthesis beside your word suggestion!

Ex: Sad (Ratchet, Wheeljack)

Ex: In the Rain (Sunstreaker)

I hope you all enjoyed! Oh, and I don't own Transformers or am making any money from this story, just smiles! 3!


	3. Chapter 2

**Army Brat**

Chapter Two

_Optimus Primes Office, ARK, Oregon, Earth_

"Those slagging _glitches! _If I have to repair them _one more time _I'm quitting!" Ratchet burst into the office without preamble, slamming the door into the wall instead of allowing it to slide open normally. He stomped into the small, crowded space as it painfully creaked closed behind him.

Jazz tilted his chair back and grinned at the medic. "Twins raising hell again, Ratch-man?"

"Like you wouldn't _believe_!" The grouchy ambulance crossed his arms and glared at the others. "Who in their right processor walks up to Grimlock and calls him _uncultured_?"

"Sideswipe," Prime immediately answered.

"Sunstreaker," Prowl chimed in.

"Tracks," added Jazz.

Ratchet growled, "You got two out of three." He looked the mechs in the room over. "Prime, you need more recharge," he snapped, "You're running low on energy. Prowl, sit up straighter. I'm going to have to realign your spinal relays if you slouch like that." His blue optics landed on Rivet. "Huh. So did Sideswipe bring you straight here?" He demanded.

"Well, uh, Chief Ratchet…" She blushed, releasing her father's hand to rub at the back of her head.

Jazz grinned and tipped a friendly wink to Rivet. "I found her in the commons, busy spell-binding every mech in sight." Ratchet's face began to contort into a rather unfriendly frown.

"That little slagger…"

"Please don't be mad at him Chief Ratchet!" The femme asked anxiously. "He was just trying to show me around. Sideswipe was very nice to me. He even got me some more energon."

"You let _Sideswipe _give you energon?" This, surprisingly, didn't come from Ratchet. Ironhide grabbed his daughters' shoulders and spun her around to face him. "Primus, are you feeling alright? You're not dizzy or shivering, are you?"

She leaned back. "No, dad, I'm fine." She tried to reassure him, noting how his optics flickered when she called him 'dad.' "Really, Sideswipe was a perfect gentlemech." Glancing over her shoulder at the medic, she tried to reassure him as well. "He didn't even try to kiss me again."

"_Kiss _you?" Ironhide asked faintly. "He _kissed _you?"

"Well, just on the hand…"

Ratchet snorted. "And I'm Primus!"

"I'm going to kill him. I'm going to grab that little slagger around his throat and _squeeze…_"

Rivet turned back to the red mech, trying to appease them both at once. "Oh please no, it's fine, really! He was just trying to make me feel welcome!"

"Sounds like he was trying to feel more than that!" Her father snapped.

Prime tried not to sigh as he sat up straighter, trying to catch their attention. "Everyone, please settle down. I will speak with Sideswipe on the proper way to conduct himself around Rivet in the morning. Ratchet, did you bring the test results?"

The medic produced a thin folder from subspace. Elbowing his way to the desk between Jazz and Prowl, he opened it and laid it on the flat surface. There were three thin, transparent sheets of plastic inside and he spread them across the desk so the squiggly lines across the pages could be seen. "What are those?" Rivet asked curiously.

"Spark readings," Ratchet picked one up and peered at her through the plastic. There was a pink squiggly line that went sharply up and down across a black, straight middle line. "This one is yours," he laid it down and held up the other two, "And these are Chromia's," the blue line, "and Ironhides," the red squiggle. He motioned for her to lean closer as he laid the two adults over each other so the black lines were overlapping. "See how your parents make a distinct double line? They barely over lap – only here and here," he pointed out the purple spots where the lines were sequenced. "Now we take your spark reading and lay it over theirs." He did so, producing an astonishing image. Every other peak and valley of her spark reading followed either her mother or fathers own spark readings, varying between the two. "That, my dear, is a paternity test." Ratchet pushed the sheets towards Prowl and Prime so they could see them better. "Congratulations Ironhide, you are a father."

Rivet turned to look up at the red mech. "I can stay with you now, right? The test shows that I really am your daughter, and mom said that once I found you…"

Ironhide reached out to wrap and arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his side. "Yeah, kid, you're staying here." He confirmed, running a hand down his face and trying to rearrange his expression into happiness instead of shock.

Jazz laughed openly, smiling at the small family. "Welcome to the team, Rivet!" He clapped her on the shoulder. Prime and Prowl nodded in agreement, each standing and leaning over the desk to shake her hand and give welcomes of their own to the newest member of the Earth-bound Autobot Army.

* * *

_Ironhides' Quarters, Officers Deck, ARK, Earth_

_**My dearest Ironhide,**_

_**You always said you wanted to have a daughter someday, one that was just like me. You have to be careful what you wish for. Rivet is just like me, and like you, too. She's a fighter, a survivor, and just like you, she gets into scraps with the other soldiers almost daily. We have a tidy little fighting force here on Cybertron – Shockwave doesn't make a move without us knowing. It's been spark-breaking, hearing the news of your battles against Megatron second-hand through our spy cameras.**_

_**I miss you. I miss your smile, and your laugh and the way your jaw tightens up when you're trying not to chuckle. My spark hurts every time I think of you. Elita says its normal – we were separated so quickly after bonding that our sparks didn't have time to adjust. Primus, I wish you were here with me, or I with you. I know this war is important, but a normal life isn't too much to ask for, is it? If not for us, at least for our daughter.**_

_**Is your spark skipping a beat when you think that word? I know mine did. Elita discovered I was carrying a child and nearly had a spark attack. Alpha Trion helped design her frames, and raised her when Elita and I were away on missions. He really is a fantastic mech, Ironhide. I can't wait for you to meet him. That day will come soon, I hope. **_

_**Make sure you tuck Rivet in, and tell her that you love her. I know you do – you love younglings. It's in your circuitry. Be careful around her, sweet spark. She doesn't show it, but this war has taken its toll on her mind just as badly as any of your older soldiers. **_

_**I don't know why I'm worried. You're her father; you'll know what she needs. The organics on Devi-X call it 'paternal instinct.' I guess we have the same kind of programming.**_

_**I love you Ironhide. I always have, and I always will. Please stay safe, and come back to me soon.**_

_**Chromia**_

Ironhide set the datapad on the edge of his desk and tilted his chair back, hands laced behind his head. He twisted around, the relays in his back creaking, and looked at the spare berth across his room. Wheeljack had installed it a few weeks after they had woken up, when Bluestreak had sought out the older mech after one of his nightmares. It folded seamlessly out of the wall, and had a headrest magnetically attached so it wouldn't get lost. At the moment, Rivet was curled up on in, tucked tightly into a ball on her side with her back shoved against the wall. The pictures Chromia had attached to the letter often showed the young femme asleep, always tucked up in a ball with her back defended. It made it so painstakingly easy to see.

She was a child of war through and through.

The mech sighed, pulling deep drafts of cool air through his intakes. Ratchet had taken him aside after the meeting, while Rivet was speaking with Prowl and Jazz, and shown him the charts. She was partially through her youngling, or adolescence stage. A 'teenager' in human terms, much like Spike. Ironhide frowned and ran a hand over his helm. She was still a child, _his _child, and now he had to take up his bondmates mantle and protect her. Not that he was protesting – Chromia was right. He had always wanted to have a child with his bondmate. He just didn't want to raise one in this war. Pushing the datapad to the side, he stood and stretched his aching relays. This dilemma could wait until the morning. Right now he wanted nothing more than to recharge and dream of his long lost Chromia.

* * *

_Recreation Room and Canteen, ARK, Oregon, Earth_

The mechs crowded together in the rec room looked up at Ironhide expectantly as he entered. Morning rations forgotten, they left the lines at the energon dispenser in favor of pulling him farther into the room.

"Is she really your daughter, Ironhide?" Bumblebee asked excitedly, handing the old mech a cube of mid grade as he was pushed towards a table.

"Nah, can't be. Sideswipe was just pulling our leg!" Tracks insisted, trying to forget the kiss he had bestowed on her hand the night before.

"I wouldn't lie about something this serious!" The red mech protested, jostling up against Ironhide and switching the mid grade for a cube of his own home-brew. "So, Hide, is she really your kid?  
Ironhide shoved the energon back into the red twins' hands. "Yes, she is." He looked back over his shoulder to see the femme hovering in the doorway, eyeing the crowded room hesitantly. Trailbreaker gave his back a hearty, congratulatory slap as everyone crowded the table and bombarded him with questions. He answered them as patiently as he could, used to the inquiring nature of many of the bases residents. The old mech rolled his optics when they asked him to reaffirm that she was his daughter for the sixth or seventh time that morning.

While the weapons specialist did his best to satiate the eager mechs curiosity, Hound seized Bumblebee's arms and tugged him towards the door. He had seen the new femme peek in, take a quick look around and then duck back out. He didn't blame her – half the crew was in here, and it had to be overwhelming for someone who had only been around a small battalion her entire life. The tracker figured that being introduced to the close knit team one at a time would be much easier for her.

The femme had moved several feet down the hall and was nervously tapping her fingers against her chin. She looked up as their heavy footsteps invaded her quiet space and dropped her twitching fingers behind her back. "Er, hello."

Hound smiled gently, pushing Bumblebee ahead of him. "Mornin'," He greeted. "I'm Hound, and this here is Bumblebee." The minibot raised his arm and wiggled his finger in greetings.

She waited a moment before responding. "I'm Rivet," she looked between the two, "Ironhides daughter."

The tracker nodded, looking her up and down. She was taller than Bee, but a bit shorter than himself. Her armor was thin and teal, like her mother, and there were a few scars visible beneath the pain on her limbs. "Welcome to Earth," he greeted. "Have you been given a tour of the base yet?"

"Yes," she answered, "Sideswipe showed me around last night."

Bumblebee bounced on his feet. "Have you explored outside of the ship?" He asked eagerly.

She shook her head. "Well, I went outside when I got off the ship but I didn't really notice anything special."

Hound beamed. "C'mon, let's go for a walk." He reached out to take her hand. "You're gonna love it here on Earth!" With Bumblebee on one side and Hound on the other, Rivet was swept down the hall to discover the new world she had landed on.

* * *

**Authors Note: **Wow! I really should try and keep constant updates, huh? I loved working on this chapter. It was amazingly fun to write the letter from Chromia to Ironhide. I love reviews!


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Twenty Miles South of ARK, Oregon, Earth_

_/Ironhide to Hound. /_

_/Hound here. /_

_/Is Rivet still with you? /_

_/Yeah. Bee 'n' I are showin' her around outside o' the base. /_

_/Alright. Just…make sure she's alright, okay? /_

_/Of course, Ironhide. We'll keep an optic on her. /_

_/Thanks. /_

Hound closed the connection, chuckling softly to himself. Ironhide, despite his gruff and grouchy exterior at some times, cared deeply for all the young mechs at the base. Now, however, he had a child of his own, one that he could love openly and dote over without worrying about showing favoritism or breaking officer-soldier taboos. That was the third time he had contacted them in the past two hours.

"What's this?"

Rivet was hunched over a bush bursting with fresh red blooms, a curious look in her optics. She reached out and brushed a gentle finger over the flowers, before grasping one of the stems between her fingers and bending it to look more closely. It snapped, unable to resist the strong metal fingers that had encased it.

"Oh no, I broke it!" She tried to shove the branch back in place.

Hound chuckled. "It's alright, Rivet. It was just a branch." He moved to stand by Bee, who was watching the femme with a wide smile and restrained chuckles. "That's _Rosa acicularis_, or a wild rose." He took the branch from her fingers and studied it. "In full bloom, too," he sighed, turning the blossoms and admiring their color. "Isn't organic life amazing?" He asked no one in particular.

"It's very…green." Rivet answered.

Bumblebee got his giggles under control. "Most of Earth is. Some of it is desert, though, and that's more brown or yellow, and the beaches are sandy too, though the oceans make them look blue." He rocked back and forth on his feet.

Hound nodded absently. "Yeah, I could spend all day out here…"

The roar of an engine drowned out the rest of his words. Bee perked up and his grin stretched even more. "Sounds like Kenny is back in town!" He crowed, reaching out to grab Rivet's wrist. "C'mon, Rivet, you're going to love this!"

Hound rolled his optics and Bumblebee dragged her into the underbrush. Ironhide would not be happy about her being introduced to Kenny on her second day here, but he doubted he could stop Bee if he tried. Better not to tell Ironhide yet, at least. They could save that for when the day was done.

_Hells Peak Race Track, Twenty-One Miles South of the ARK, Oregon, Earth_

There were squishy things everywhere. All along one side of the two mile round track, sitting on rickety wooden stands and cheering on the technologically decrepit vehicles racing across the dirt, were squishy organics. Prowl had lectured her on them last night – _Homo sapiens_ - the dominant race of organics on this planet who were just as intelligent as the Autobots, if not as technologically advanced. Because of their short life spans (few lived past one century!) they were not able to make the leaps and bounds that the practically immortal Cybertronians had. Hound had mentioned humans while they were walking – he was friends with a male named Spike and a female named Carly. Beyond that, he hadn't really said anything. Bumblebee, however, had dragged her to this racetrack and bombarded her with a quick description of his friend Kenny.

"He owns this racetrack down here, and lets us come and race for free! That way the twins won't get speeding tickets, which makes Prowl a lot happier than he lets on." The yellow mech had rushed before releasing her arm and diving in among the humans, talking and laughing and identifying several by name. Rivet was left to stand awkwardly at the edge of the gathering, keenly aware of the organics watching her curiously.

Hound rested a hand on her shoulder, and smiled guiltily as she flinched beneath his touch. "Sorry," he whispered, looking over the rowdy crowd. "Huh, no wonder Bee heard them so quickly. Must be a big race going on today." He looked down at the humans, many of whom had begun to congregate at their feet.

A redhead in a tank top and cut off jeans pointed her half eaten hot dog at him, a lopsided smile on her face. "Hey there Hound. Thought you were too hippie for this?" She asked teasingly.

The tracker smiled politely. "Hello Amanda," he greeted, watching as she took a swig from her half-empty bottle of beer. "I'm just showing one of our new recruits around." He wrapped an arm around Rivets shoulder and tugged her around the crowd, toward the track. "Looks like someone broke out the beer a little early," he muttered to himself.

"Beer?"

"Alcohol. Er, it's like high grade."

"Oh." Rivet allowed herself to be steered toward the starting line. Bumblebee was there, talking to a beer-bellied man with a shaved head and sunglasses.

"C'mon, Bee," he patted the car beside him; "Ya can't say this ain't the most beautiful thing you've ever seen! The only one like it in the world!"

Bumblebee shrugged. "I'm not that big into style," he pointed out. "Glad you found a car that you finally like, though."

"Yeah boy," he chuckled loudly, patting the cherry red hood once more. "She's my baby!"

The yellow mech nodded, keeping his confusion under wraps for now. He would ask Spike what he meant by 'baby' later. It didn't look like any human baby he had ever seen.

"Well hey there Hound!" The man looked past Bee with a toothy smile. "Didn't expect ta' see ya down here today. Thought the car exhaust messed with yer sensors?"

The tracker smiled politely. "Hello Kenny," he greeted politely, "And since there are no large diesel trucks here today, my intakes are fine."

Kenny nodded. "Good, good, glad to see ya here. Hey, who's the babe?"

"Babe?"

The human resisted the urge to roll his eyes – these Autobots needed to get on Wikipedia and do some serious searching! "Your female friend," he explained patiently.

"This is Rivet," Hound introduced. "Rivet, this is Kenny, one of our human friends."

The femme crouched down, crossing her arms over her knees and examining the man with her bright blue optics. Locating the English file Ratchet had installed last night, she beamed and chirped, "Hello!"

"Hello there, lil' lady," Kenny agreed, pushing back his baseball cap and scratching his forehead. "Now what's a pretty girl like yourself doin' tangled up with these here ugly men?"

She blinked in confusion and drew back, looking up at Hound and Bee, who were both smirking.

"Ugly, huh?" Hound crossed his arms and leaned forward. "Apparently Kenny here hasn't forgotten our last race, Bee."

The yellow mech snickered, "The one where we kicked his aft or the one where he ate our dust?" He asked innocently.

"Shut up you two. With this here Mustang I can beat both you with my hands tied behind my back!" Kenny started to utter another challenge, but was cut off by Rivet standing and stepping over him. She crouched by his newly restored car and ran a gentle finger over the hood. "Hey, no, don't touch that!" He lunged forward. "That's my baby!"

Rivet shuffled back. "I'm sorry, it's just really…well, wow." She studied the car intently.

"Yep!" Kenny seemed to forgive her, a large smile crossing his face at finding someone who appreciated his taste in cars. "A 1964 Mustang Convertible," he boasted proudly, "completely restored by yours truly." He ran his hand over the bright red paint and the white racing stripes.

Rivet turned and looked at Hound with a big smile. "Do you think it could outrun a Decepticon on the battle field?" She asked.

"Only one way to find out, kiddo," he nodded.

The femme stood and took a few steps back. Kenny looked up at her, then at the Autobots. "You are _not _taking my new car with you to battle!" He turned back to Rivet and felt his jaw drop as a green-blue light swept over his car. "What are you doing? What is she doing?"

"Relax," Hound made a calming gesture with his hands, "She's not hurting your car. We swear."

Kenny snorted in disagreement and turned to watch the femme. She had stepped even farther back and was tilting her head, reading something flashing across the inside of her optics. After a moment more she collapsed.

The owner of the Mustang was used to seeing the Autobots transform – they came and often would do races and tricks to draw a crowd at his track. In exchange for the publicity, he let them use it whenever they needed to. Prowl called on him once in a while to request it for military training runs, and he was treated to watching the entire Autobot team at their full potential.

Not once, however, had he seen an Autobot transform _into his car_. Kenny felt his jaw drop, and he took a few steps forward, looking between the two mustangs.

"Now _that_ is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Bumblebee had to admit. Kenny's mouth snapped shut, and his face grew red.

"No!" He roared. "You cannot just come here and _steal _my car! This is one-of-a-kind!" He slammed his hand down on the front of his convertible. "Only one like it in the world, specially designed by me!" Pointing dramatically, he demanded, "Change back now!"

Rivet carefully transformed into her bipedal state. Her armor was a bit thicker in places now, noticeably over her spark chamber and stomach. The two long doors fell carefully over her back, creating a short cape-like effect that protected her spark from a back shot. She looked at Kenny with a sad expression.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to steal your design," she tried to placate him. "I can find another form immediately if you really want me to."

"Of _course _I do, you thief!" His charming words had fled in favor of angry shouting.

A loud, boisterous laugh interrupted Kenny's barely-wound up tirade. "Oh please, Rivey, don't listen to him." Sideswipe was striding down the hill from the woods, towards the track. "He's just full of hot air." Sunstreaker sulked behind his brother, pouting moodily but somehow still looking gorgeous. As soon as they hit the edge of the track, human surged forward to greet their favorite Lamborghinis. Sideswipe greeted a few before moving forward to join Hound and Bee, while Sunstreaker stayed behind to bathe in the praise the women were giving his attractive paint job.

"All of the car companies across the _world _gave us permission to use their models as alternate vehicle forms," Sideswipe pointed out, beaming. "And you look gorgeous as a mustang. Don't listen to Kenny – he's just angry because you could beat him in a nanoclick."

Kenny laughed harshly. "Oh please, she couldn't beat me with turbo-powered engines!" He paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Alright, Sideswipe, let's make a wager. Me 'n' this little lady here will race. If she wins, she can keep being a mustang. I win, and she has to find another alt mode."

Sideswipe shook his head. "No deal," he grunted. "You obviously have _no _idea how much power it takes to copy a form." He rolled his optics, as though that knowledge should have been every day potpourri for the human race.

Rivet took a step forward, interrupting them. "I still have enough energy to race, Sideswipe." She reassured him. "I'm never one to turn down a challenge!"

Sideswipe glanced back at his brother, who was busy flirting shamelessly with at least twelve human females at one time, and nodded. "Alright, deal." He pointed at Kenny. "You win, and she changes her alt mode. Agreed?"

"Like she has a chance o' winning!" Kenny spat on the ground. "Saddle up, girly. You're going down."He yanked his keys out of his jeans pocket and stomped towards his car. Rivet looked at the other Autobots nervously.

"Racing on Earth is like racing on Cybertron, right?" She asked.

"You've got nothing to worry about!" Sideswipe clapped her on the shoulder. "There's more than enough traction, and you're gonna beat him hands down! Now go show that pompous idiot what he's got coming!"

Rivet nodded and stepped back onto the racetrack, transforming and pulling up to the starting line. Sideswipe began to herd the humans back to the stands, while Bumblebee told the announcer what was going on.

**Ladies and Gentlemen**_**, **_boomed the bodiless voice from the speakers set up around the track, **Take your seats! We have an exciting match today – Kenny the Killer versus Autobot Rivet! Does our fearless leader have what it takes to beat the newest Autobot Recruit? Let's turn up the volume and see!**

Immediately the spectators began to cheer, picking up a steady rhythm of 'Kenny Kill Her!' much to the mechs dismay. They shouted encouragement to Rivet, who was rolling back and forth on her wheels nervously. Kenny had started his car with a roar, and was gripping the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

**Let's rock! On your marks…Get set…GO!**

With a cheer that nearly shattered the mechs audios, the humans leapt to their feet and screamed at the original red Mustang that took off from the starting line. Rivet fishtailed behind him before sending up a thick cloud of dust, tires screeching against the hard packed dirt as she roared down the road behind him. The mechs threw their fists in the air, yelling and cheering as loud as their vocalizers would allow.

Slowly, as the race progressed, dark clouds began to gather over the southern horizon. A northern storm, fast and furious, was gathering quickly. The humans cheering slowed as they reached for umbrellas and ponchos, some ducking under the bleachers to protect themselves from the sudden rain.

It came loud and fast, a torrential downpour of all the sky had to offer. The rain pounded the dust, turning it into mud and gathering in puddles in the middle of the racetrack. The bots shielded their optics and watched as the two mustangs rounded one of the far bends.

Kenny took the turn with ease. It was his race track, and he knew every corner and bump like the back of his hand. Rivet, however, had screeched to a halt, kicking up dust and clumps of mud. Sideswipe and Bumblebee both leapt to their feet, watching as she transformed and stared up at the sky. There was an unmistakable hint of terror within them.

"Rivet!" Hound jumped onto the track, his hands cupped around his mouth to amplify his already booming voice. "It's just _water_! Not acid!"

She looked back at him, startled, and then held her hand up to the sky. The rain pooled in her hand and she gave it a quick scan. H2O; two hydrogen atoms bonded with an oxygen one. She would have given the others a sheepish look if it weren't for Kenny revving his engine. He was only a hundred yards from the finish line. Rivet dropped into her new alt mode and shot after him, sending up a wave of mud as she rounded the bend.

It was too late. Kenny crossed the finish line, a good five seconds before Rivet did. The Autobots groaned in defeat while the humans cheered, thrusting their fists and umbrellas to the sky in celebration. Kenny, however, was not celebrating. He stepped out of his car and stared at the femme, who had transformed and was staring at her feet, which were splashed with mud.

Hound was the first to reach her. He rested a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry 'bout it, Rivet. We'll find you an even faster alt mode.

She sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. I just really wanted to win."

Kenny snorted. "Hmph. If you really wanted to win, then you wouldn't have stopped!"

"Shut up, Kenny." Sideswipe appeared at Rivet's other side. "There isn't any rain on Cybertron, unless it's made of acid, and that'll eat through a bots armor in mere minutes."

The bald human gave the femme a long, searching look. "You stopped because you thought the rain was going to kill you?"

Blue rushed into Rivet's cheeks as she blushed. "Yes," she admitted, feeling stupid. Hound rested a comforting hand on her shoulder strut.

Kenny considered them closely. "Ah, keep the damn alt mode." He grumbled, turning back to the stands. "Alright folks, shows over! Skedaddle before the thunder starts!" He made his way up to the announcers booth, leaving the five bots behind him stunned.

"I...did not expect that," Hound admitted slowly as the humans began to file towards the parking lot, a mass of umbrellas and ponchos covering their escape.

Sideswipe grinned. "Even Kenny can't resist a pretty face," he winked at Rivet. "C'mon, lets get back to the base before we rust." The group followed the humans to the parking lot, where they said their farewells and transformed. The femme followed her new friends as they hit the winding road that would eventually lead them back to the ARK.

_ARK Entrance, Oregon, Earth_

By the time they reached the ARK, the storm was in full swing. The pounding rain had washed away all traces of dirt and mud, but it had left Rivet's fuel lines feeling frozen. The five pulled into the entrance of the ARK, transforming as soon as they were under the protective shelf of the rocket boosters.

"Well that was a productive afternoon!" Sideswipe announced cheerfully, ignoring his brothers mutterings about rust. Rivet shivered, but nodded her head in agreement. Her doors, which were laying flat against her back, flicked and sent water cascading to the ground.

Bumblebee reached out and touched her arm, a sympathetic smile on his face. "C'mon, it'll be warmer in the rec room." She nodded and followed him down the halls, listening with an amused smile as Sunstreaker and Sideswipe began to talk about all the amazing races they had seen over the years at Kennys' track. By the time they reached the rec room, some of the cold had left her limbs and she was listening eagerly to the twins descriptions of an all-out tournament between all the Autobot racers that had taken place a year before.

"And who won that race?" Jazz, one of the few occupants of the rec room, had caught the tail end of their conversation. Sideswipe muttered something under his breath, and the visored mech leaned towards them. "I didn't quite catch that."

"You did, music master of the race track," Sideswipe groaned, "All hail Jazz, the fastest Autobot on this planet or any other."

Rivet cast Sunstreaker an inquiring look, and he smirked at his brother. "He lost a bet," he explained as they joined Jazz at his table.

The saboteur scrutinized their group through his thick visor. "You look different, Rivet. Get yourself a alt mode?"

She beamed, doors flicking a bit at the attention. "Yes I did! Bumblebee and Hound took me to a race track and we met a man named Kenny. He let me copy his Mustang."

Sideswipe grinned. "1964 convertible model; it's a beauty." He winked at her.

Jazz nodded, noticing the mechs starting to flow into the room as shifts changed. "Yeah, good choice." He slugged back the rest of the energon and stood. "I gotta get to the command center. See y'all around." They waved as he left, not noting the calculating gleam in his visor.

_Hells Peak Race Track, Twenty-One Miles South of the ARK, Oregon, Earth_

Jazz had to admit that, despite being a pompous jerk when it came to his cars, Kenny did know how to run a track. The rain had subsided and he was toiling away, already filthy with mud. The lights around the track – a present from Wheeljack -made his shadow long and thin as he worked. The dirt track, which he refused to replace with pavement, was sunk with potholes and puddles. The man had several large tarps out and was laying them over the track, preparing for the rest of the thunderstorms forecast for the night.

The Autobot easily picked up one of the large tarps and laid it over a portion of the track. Kenny jumped and turned, only to smile in relief.

"If it isn't my favorite Autobot Champion," he greeted, tugging at another tarp.

"And if it isn't my favorite race track owner," Jazz took the tarp from his hand and flung it open over another part of the track.

"What can I do for ya, Jazz?" Kenny knew this was more than a personal visit – Jazz was third in command of the Autobots, and didn't get out to the track often.

The mech smiled that little scheming smile most of his comrade had learned to fear and continued to lay out the tarps. "Well, my man, it seems to me that it's been about a year since the last Autobot Championship Race..."

"I would have to agree with you." Kenny gave up pulling at the tarps and followed Jazz around the track as he continued to lay them down. "So do you think we should make the race an annual thing?"

"Definitely," Jazz nodded with a wide grin. "It promotes sportsmanship, strengthens friendships in the troops, and is great PR for the base..."

"Jazz." Kenny stopped and looked up at the mech.

"Yeah Kenny?" Jazz stopped and looked down at the human.

"You just wanna kick the twins butts again, don't you?"

A smile spread over the saboteurs face, akin to the Cheshire cat in the old Disney cartoon. "Why Kenny, I have no idea what you're talking about." He turned and sauntered down the track, humming something that sounded suspiciously like Queens 'We Are the Champions.'

* * *

Holy crap it's alive! :D Thanks for all the reviews, and I'm soooooo sorry this took so long to write! I hope you enjoyed it! Please review and tell me how I'm doing! 3


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